


Not So Bad

by but_why_not



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Drunk flirting, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Rating May Change, Romance, Smaug is a lil shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/but_why_not/pseuds/but_why_not
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting unwanted attention from a scary looking guy is bad enough.<br/>Getting drunk with the man who saved you from said attention and trying to flirt with him however, makes for an interesting evening.</p><p>Based off the prompt 'gets hit on by a creeper quick pretend you're my boyfriend'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achildofyavanna (Minionfromthedark)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minionfromthedark/gifts), [Resacon1990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resacon1990/gifts).



Despite the name, the bar was actually a quite nice one. The Prancing Pony. The food was good, the drinks better, and Bilbo could find little fault in the company whenever he chose to seek it. It wasn't a deafening, modern nightclub to be sure, but it was a bustling location full of interesting people.  


Tonight however, Bilbo kept his eyes only on his cell phone, putting in a considerable amount of effort to seem occupied and unapproachable. Whenever he did get tired of pretending to text a random array of numbers he nursed a drink whose name he had already forgotten, and tried to apply the same concept to his day in general. It had been Bofur’s grand idea to drag Bilbo to the bar in order to "cheer him up" when all he had truly wanted to do was curl up in his too-big bed and watch a movie to fill the silence.  


Bilbo looked around, brow furrowing as he searched the crowd for the dark red tee and listened for the tell-tale sounds of laughter that usually accompanied his friend. He spotted Bofur in the corner of the bar with a sharp-featured person and couldn’t help the snort. He wouldn’t begrudge his friend a good time, Bofur was naturally an amiable person of course others would feel attracted to him- and he would also beat himself up on his own by tomorrow for leaving him at the bar. Bilbo told himself that it was fine and tried his hardest to believe it.  


He tipped his drink when Bofur caught his eye, trying to ease the guilty flash in his friend’s eyes.  


Bilbo stopped short. He had done it again. It wasn’t something he did intentionally and Bilbo was sure Bofur had had only the best of intentions when he had dragged him off. Perhaps that was the reason Bilbo constantly put others before himself, because in the end he was pretty certain that they hadn’t meant to hurt him intentionally. It wasn’t hurt that he felt though, the weight in his gut tasted more of disappointment. It was a bitter emotion that he had become accustomed to and, in a twisted form of self-sacrifice, it was the reason Bilbo could usually assuage the guilt of others with little thought.  


‘Just one more and I’ll go home,’ he thought wearily, wanting to sink into the soft covers of his bed already and forget the day.  


“This seat taken?” The sudden voice nearly made Bilbo jump and when he turned, the person it belonged to finished the job. A tall, pale man with striking, handsome features slid into the stool next to Bilbo’s before he could even answer, though at this point any answer was likely to be more of a squeak. Though attractive, there was a sharp gleam to the man’s eyes that Bilbo didn’t feel like dealing with.  


“I’m Azog Bennet,” the man introduced himself, holding out a hand. The manners his mother had ingrained into him too charge and Bilbo found himself- against his better instincts- moving to grasp it.  


“Bilbo Baggins, ah, nice to meet you.”  


“Tell me Bilbo,” His personal space was abruptly invaded and the tart smell of achohol hit him. “What’s a guy like you doing all alone at a bar?” Had Bilbo not been caught off-guard then he would have had words to say about the sheer cheesiness of that pick-up line. As it was, he struggled to maintain his composure because he was simply not in the mood.  


“I’m not, my, uh, boyfriend is here with me.”  


“Oh really?” Azog glanced around, “Where is he then?” Bilbo’s gaze shot frantically to the corner where Bofur had been but saw no one and _really_ , today was the absolute worst day Bofur could have decided to charm someone into his bed that quickly.  


“L-look,” he edged away, trying to inject as much steel as he could into his voice, “I’ve had a very long day and I’m really not interested in-”  


“Long day at work? Well then, Bilbo, I’m certain I could help you forget all about it?” And his hand rose up to fall on Bilbo‘s shoulder with a gentle slide that made him feel slimy. His first instinct was to flinch away from the broad palm but he was much too afraid to move lest he should insult the man who looked drunk enough to switch from horribly flirty to violently angry.  


Then an arm wrapped around him, heavy and warm and decidedly not Azog’s.  


“Here you are then! I can see you already started without me.” What Bilbo saw was probably the most beautiful man he had ever clapped eyes on, with a lazy smile and an icy gaze settling on Azog.  


“Sorry pal, he’s with me.” Though his tone was light there was a coldness to his expression that offered no argument.  


Without even a word of acknowledgement, Azog slipped off the seat and walked away. The stranger was quick to claim his seat. The smile that had graced his features was quickly replaced by a frown, which oddly enough looked more at home on the man’s face than the smile.  


Bilbo tried to find the words to speak as the stranger appraised him with concern, as if he might suddenly topple over in a faint.  


‘Well he might not be entirely wrong then,’ he thought faintly.  


“Thank you,” the words blurted from Bilbo’s mouth once he had finally found them. “I wasn’t sure of what to do, my friend was gone and he just walked up and-”  


“Are you okay?” The stranger interrupted, his brow furrowed in worry.  


“Me? Yes, yes I’m fine. Just a little- a little light-headed is all. He came out of no where and I had absolutely no idea how to respond and frankly I was terrified he would just-” Bilbo cut off, managing a glance at the stranger, who far from looking relieved seemed only further concerned.  


“Can I buy you a drink?” As he said the words Bilbo thought he should probably connect his brain back to his mouth because who was even running the show now. “I mean, to thank you. I was honestly at a loss back there and I have to admit you did save me from a potentially scary situation.”  


The stranger frowned for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” He glanced at Bilbo’s forgotten drink, “I’ll have whatever you were having then.”  


Bilbo blinked and looked at his drink. “Oh, um, I honestly cannot remember the name of this thing.” The stranger chuckled at that and Bilbo tried not to stare.  


“Just two beers then. I’m not too familiar with the drinks of this bar.”  


“Well alright if you’re sure. But I’ll figure out what this was, it was really quite good.”  


The stranger- whose name he learned was Thorin- was a delightfully attentive listener, allowing for Bilbo to carry the majority of the conversation, answering the generic questions Bilbo decided to throw at him with good grace. Frankly, Bilbo was glad that Thorin wasn’t an avid talker because what he needed was for someone to listen, not throw in their two cents on his mess of a day. And Thorin did listen, his gaze never wandered far from Bilbo’s and whenever he prompted for an opinion Thorin gave it honestly. The lazy smile from before was gone and lovely though it was it had seemed more threatening than friendly, Bilbo found himself feeling more and more at ease the longer they talked.  


Occasionally, he would be able to wring the odd smile or chuckle from Thorin, an accomplishment he was proud of because of the way they made his blue eyes crinkle around the edges and because of how _beautiful_ Thorin looked in those brief moments.  


But right now those blue eyes were widening and Bilbo‘s mind stuttered to a halt, realizing that he had said that last part out loud. How many beers had he had?  


“Three.” Thorin answered, his expression closed off in a manner Bilbo didn’t like at all.  


Would there be a good time to mention that he was a lightweight? He should have probably done so earlier. Thorin looked at his watch before muttering, “I should probably get you home,” and it took a good amount willpower from Bilbo’s part to rein in his tongue before he could say something stupid such as “how forward of you.”  


Thorin’s head whipped around to look at Bilbo with a slightly alarmed expression and reddening cheeks.  


Well _fuck._  


~  


“Oi, Thorin, you hear me?” Dwalin shouldered him as they both made their way out of the building where they worked.  


“What?”  


“Said we’re going out to celebrate. You’re coming with.”  


“And where exactly are we heading to?” He didn’t much feel like being dragged out to some sleazy bar after a long day at work. He and Dwalin had been friends since childhood and sleazy bar was exactly what he expected as a ‘celebratory outing’.  


“Quaint place,” he said rather seriously, “really, Ori likes it. Says it’s nice.”  


“Then I’m taking Ori’s word for it, definitely not yours.” Dwalin laughed at that when in the past he would’ve grumbled for fifteen minutes straight. The young writer was proving to be a good influence on Dwalin despite his friend’s attempts to maintain his trademarked gruff persona.  


“Smart move, that.”  


Thorin had insisted at celebrating at the bar slightly earlier than usual. It was a school night and he didn’t want to arrive home too late and wake his nephews. Despite having an apartment of his own Thorin found he slept more comfortably with Dis and the boys.  


“Alright, so seven then?” Dwalin tucked his cellphone into his suit jacket. It was amusing how even when all dappered up Dwalin managed to cut an intimidating appearance.  


“Aye, Ori’s bringing Nori and a couple of the others to tag along. Thank god for small mercies eh? Coulda been Dori.”  


Thorin laughed at that. “True. I think they might be warming up to you. Just wait until they see your skin” It was a poorly kept secret that Dwalin was inked up as much as any former biker, but he remained paranoid when any inkling of that information floated around the Risons.  


“Shut your trap,” he growled. “And change out of that bloody suit before you show up at the bar.”  


Thorin frowned, Dwalin sighed.  


“Before you ask, there’s nothing wrong with your suit, you’re just not gonna get fuckin laid with it” At Thorin’s raised brow Dwalin made a vague wave. “Just- all of that, not too much of an inviting image.”  


“And how would you know anything about ‘inviting images? Or has Ori finally decided to give you private lessons on the matter.” The indignant look on his friend’s face made the punch to the shoulder worthwhile.  


“Don’t be late,” he growled out before turning to get into his own car. Thorin simply laughed at his friend‘s expression, he really should have known this would come back and bite him in the ass.  


~  


The air is warm from the leftovers of the scorching summer and Thorin is glad he decided to wear a simple tee. When Thorin finally arrives at the bar he really isn’t surprised to find that Dwalin and Ori- and by extension Nori- have already arrived. He joins them at their booth and exchanges a look with Nori, who frankly looks quite disgusted by it all. 

Making a quick excuse of gathering drinks as their friends arrive they make a quick getaway.  


“They’ve been like that since they got here.” Nori hissed at him, sparing a glance at the booth, where Dwalin and Ori were staring soulfully into each other’s eyes. Occasionally 

Dwalin would mutter something and touch Ori’s face with exaggerated gentleness.  


“This is positively revolting.” muttered Thorin as they waited for the drinks. With a short nod Nori turned to the rest of the bar.  


“God yes. The soulful looks, and sappy compliments and do you know they started to make out while I was off in the bathroom?” He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.  


“You have my sympathy Nori.” He kept as straight a face as he could. Nori only snorted at that and grabbed the drinks when they arrived.  


“Right. Well what I want is to get staggering drunk and then maybe screwed out of my mind by a handsome fella.”  


“Too much information.”  


“You can complain about too much information when you’ve been sitting next to those two for an hour,” he bit out. Shaking with head, Thorin smiled. For all his complaining 

Nori did seem happy for them, though he began to down drinks with alarming speed once they found their way back to the booths, where they had been joined by Gloin, Oin, and Balin.  


“Are we toasting to Director Sulks-a-lot over here or to Balin who saved our asses in that meeting with Thranduil’s company?”  


“You’re not one to be talking lad,” Gloin laughed, “You looked about ready to pounce on that froofy man as well.”  


“How about a toast to the continued flourishing of Erebor Inc.?” Balin offered, a peacekeeper as always. They raised their drinks to that  


The night moved on and the bar was slowly filled as it’s busiest hour arrived. Gloin excused himself early, having a boy of his own at home and soon after that Oin and Balin did the same, using their ages as a flimsy excuse to not be around the drunk couple that had continued where they had left off. Thorin felt a tight grip on his arm that was Nori.  


“If I have to watch my brother get mauled by that man I will not be responsible for my actions. Just saying.” Thorin nodded in agreement. The pair of them had been effectively third-wheeled by the couple.  


Nori snuck off soon after and Thorin did the same. Things at the bar were decidedly more interesting.  


There was a man, perched on his barstool, leaning away from a much larger man. Thorin frowned and inched closer,  


“My, uh, boyfriend is here.” He tried not to wince visibly, the lie was blatant even to him. The man cast his gaze around desperately, searching for someone?  


The decision was made at a moment’s notice, when Thorin saw the fear written on the smaller man’s face. He moved smoothly, sliding an arm around his shoulder’s and leaning in.  


“Here you are then!” he smiled with what was hopefully a warm smile. “I can see you already started without me.” Thorin glanced up to see the other man’s face close off in quiet anger. “Sorry pal, he’s with me.” Thankfully the man said nothing as he turned and left, Thorin took his spot and looked worriedly at the small man, who looked quite shaken up. Should Thorin apologize? What if he had made things worse? The realization that any help might’ve been unwanted made him go cold, he should’ve minded his own business, he shouldn’t have-  


“Thank you,” the man’s apology cut his spiraling train of thought. He continued to speak, rapidly, and Thorin worried if he was more shaken up than he was letting on.  


“Are you okay?” he interrupted and winced internally, Dwalin would’ve smacked him for that, exactly why Thorin couldn’t say.  


After multiple assurance that he was indeed fine the small man surprised him with an offer to buy him a drink. It was endearing how he became flustered when he couldn’t remember the name of his drink and though he had clarified that it was meant to thank him Thorin found himself enjoying conversing with him. He introduced himself as Bilbo Baggins and for once Thorin found himself glad to not have to carry the conversation. Bilbo was interesting, funny, and intelligent, he was so animated and Thorin felt drawn to the natural warmth and light he seemed to exude.  


He had found that the less he talked the less likely it was to put his foot in his mouth. It was rather funny it ended up happening to someone else this time.  
~  


Thorin was no stranger to handling drunks. In fact handling Dwalin when he’d had one too many drinks might’ve as well have made him an expert on the subject. But he had not been expecting to handle a drunk anybody when his friend had invited him out for drinks after a successful meeting with the rest of the board members.  


Now he had a cute, but drunk man all but resting in his arms as they exited the bar and made their way to Thorin’s car. He pulled out his cellphone to make a quick call as he continued to walk the smashed Bilbo Baggins.  


“Dwalin? Yeah I don’t think I can give you a ride tonight, think you can find a cab?”  


“Oh ho, did someone finally get lucky?” Thorin gritted his teeth, he could almost see his friend‘s stupid eyebrows waggling.  


“Not exactly. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you tomorrow. Will you and Ori be fine?”  


“Oh we’ll be more than _fine._ ”  


“You’re disgusting. Goodbye.” He ended the call and fumbled for the keys. As he was doing so Bilbo leaned away and mumbled something.  


“What was that?”  


“I said,” the slur was very evident now, “that I’m terribly sorry about this. I shouldn’t have- you shouldn’t have to- oh today is a mess.”  


“Don’t worry about that,” Thorin answered firmly, opening the passenger door for him. “Really, I’d rather drive you than leave alone at the bar. Besides, it’s my fault you drank as much as you did.” He then went around and slid into the driver’s seat.  


“No s’not. Stop tryin’ to make me feel better.” Thorin fought the smile but lost, not noticing that Bilbo was gazing at him again.  


“I’m not, honestly, besides I’m terrible at it.” Bilbo shook his head and let out a huff of laughter. He stretched back in the seat and let out a soft moan as something popped.  


“Alright, why don’t we get you home,” he clasped the steering wheel and his voice was tight. The way Bilbo stretched was nothing short of sinfull.  


It was a short drive to Bilbo's apartment, a lovely place nestled in of the more well-to-do neighborhoods. As soon as the door was opened he simply walked in, made a beeline to what must’ve been his bedroom and fell face first onto his bed. Thorin should have left immediately afterwards, but something held him back.  


Thorin frowned and rubbed his neck, deliberating for only a moment before turning to search for something. He found what he was looking for, a note pad and a pen, neatly placed on a coffee table near the door. Thorin didn’t fight the fond smile that spread across his face as it was so obviously something Bilbo. He took a note and wrote quickly on it, tacking it on the coffee table next to the pad. Before he could change his mind Thorin shut off the light and shut the door behind him, leaving the apartment almost reluctantly, the receding warmth at his back a lingering reminder of a bewildering but altogether pleasant evening.

~

“So let me get this straight,” Thorin stifled a groan as he and Dwalin made their way through the clean corridors of Erebor Inc. “You meet a cute guy, talk him up and both of you hit it off, you take him back to his place, and that’s it. Nothing.” 

“He was drunk.” Thorin reminded him with a growl knowing fully well that that wasn’t what Dwalin meant. 

“No call, no text, no later date? He just, didn’t reach out to you? Maybe he didn’t see the note-” 

“I left it right on the coffee table near his door. He couldn’t have missed it.” He was too tired to try to be hopeful. Bilbo clearly wasn’t interested and that was that. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself as he haunted the bar where they had met nearly every evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of copper curls. ‘Disgustingly besotted,’ is what Dwalin would mutter every time they entered, but he accompanied him nonetheless. 

“Just drop it, okay?” There was a pleading tone layered in his voice and Dwalin stared at him for a moment before shrugging and looking away. 

“So we going out for drinks later?” 

Thorin only nodded, grateful for his friend at that moment. A strong clap to his shoulder made him immediately reconsider it however. 

“Alright you brooding sod, let’s get this day over with then.” 

~

The next morning Bilbo had awoken with a hangover to put all others to shame. His internal clock kicked in, an unfailing Baggins’ attribute and woke him at 7 a.m. sharp.

He groaned and cursed the cheerful morning light that managed to make it past the drawn wooden blinds and turned over, hauling the covers over his eyes. But his body would not allow him sleep again so easily, the headache pulsing behind his eyes was torture in it’s own right, he had to piss, and his tongue felt like a lump of cotton in his mouth. 

Cursing every higher power he knew Bilbo rolled out of bed with the enthusiasm to match a zombie. Once his bladder was taken care of and his mouth was cleaner and his body more hydrated Bilbo felt up to crawling back underneath his covers again. 

Unfortunately, while he had been away his cat, a ginger monstrosity that despised everyone save for Bilbo, had made himself comfortable smack dab in the center of the bed. 

“Move you great lump.” he mumbled, falling onto the bed without a care. Smaug made a grumbling noise at the jostling bed but otherwise remained immobile. Bilbo noticed faintly that he had scrapped pieces of paper stuck to his mouth and wondered idly what stray paper Smaug had decided to maul, and he wasn’t quite done yet by the looks of it. Unable to drum up the strength to care he drifted to sleep with the faint sound of ripping paper to aid him.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic started to get really long, longer than the quick drabble I had envisioned, so I'm splitting this into two chapters so it isn't crammed. The rating might almost surely change because who doesn't like some good lovin'.  
> Thanks to nat and ash who motivated me even when I was being an unhelpful lump! Seriously this fic has been sitting in my laptop like a neglected book gathering dust.
> 
> The next chapter is already planned out and partly written so yay! Productivity!


End file.
